


There's always tomorrow

by Clarounette



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Time, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, kind of flowery language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 15:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarounette/pseuds/Clarounette
Summary: Just before the Homecoming Ball, you spend some intimate time with Drake.





	There's always tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> It's slightly different from what really happens in the game.

For a few minutes, you contemplate how you got here, even as he explores your face with tender lips. That is, until Drake undresses. Then all you can think of is how his body would feel weighing on yours…

He calls you. Your name is but a whisper, the ghost of a prayer.  _ Riley… _ He says it with such a devotion, as if it were the name of God himself. The fire burning in his eyes is scorching you, igniting a blaze in your core. You want him, as you never wanted anything before.

You remember. The bachelor party. The kiss in front of the Statue of Liberty. Maxwell's offer. You came in Cordonia for Liam, sure. But you stayed for Drake.

You walk to him and look into his eyes, happier than you ever were. You take his hands into yours, drawing tiny circles with your thumbs onto the back of his fingers.

Those hands… Strong - you remember how they grabbed heavy beams when you built the barn together, skin taut on muscles and bones - and comforting - the memory of them warm and soft on your back after Tariq’s assault fills your mind for a second. But also… How many nights have you spent thinking about those hands on your body, exploring your most intimate places, while you pleasured yourself in a bed too big, too empty. You think about those lonely nights as you look at Drake’s hands and blush.

You give them a little squeeze to let Drake know the extent of your feelings. It brings a radiant smile to his lips, one that illuminates his face and lights stars in his eyes. He's so handsome when he smiles, so carefree. Almost childish. You know you get a peek at his inner, most secluded self: the hopeful kid who doesn’t care that his best friend is a prince and who hasn’t seen the ugly side of court life yet; the kid with a courageous father, a loving mother and a happy little sister by his side. So far from what Drake has become along the years.

He then reaches for your neck, weaving his fingers in your hair as he leans to kiss you. You don't hesitate and open your mouth to welcome his wandering tongue. So close to him, you can smell his cologne - a woody scent, strong and wild - as you taste whiskey on his lips. The combination is so Drake: male and bitter, with a sweet undertone.

Sarcasm is his second language and you couldn’t find a grumpiest man in all Cordonia, but he’s a marshmallow at heart. Once you crumbled the walls he had built around his emotions, you discovered a passionate and loyal man. One so devoted to his best friend that you almost missed your chance at happiness because of it. Not that Liam doesn’t deserve such loyalty - the crown prince is worth as much - but it has been a tiring battle to let Drake see that you both wanted the same thing and that there was nothing wrong with that. Now his devotion is for you. You're a lucky girl.

Your hands caress his shoulders, his torso. He moans under your ministrations, and you swallow the soft sound hungrily. You can feel him swelling against your belly, a promise of more to come. You reach for his face, relishing the prickling of his stubble on your fingertips. You run your hands on his cheeks, his ears, to the back of his neck. His hair is silky soft and you play with it while you keep kissing him.

You still wonder how you manage to bring back the hidden kid in Drake so often. And how Drake has managed to keep him alive in the deepest recess of his heart. You realize that it’s the walls he had built around him that protected Drake for so long. And you destroyed them, one kiss at a time. You decide to be Drake’s armour against the world from now on.

He closes the tiny breath of space left between you, and you’re happy to let him. His skin is hot against yours, but your clothes are in the way. Drake fumbles with the clasps on the back of your dress, not leaving your lips even for a second. After a few uncertain minutes, he finally let your gown fall on the floor. And time stops.

You appear before him in your blue strapless bra and matching thong. His eyes are roaming over your petite frame. When you were younger - or with another man - you may have become self conscious at this point and would have tried to cover yourself. But the desire in Drake’s eyes gives you confidence. You hold your head up and relax your shoulders. “Like what you see?” You curl your lips in a smug smile.

“Oh god, yes…” His words end with a deep inhale as he pounces on you to kiss you again. You melt in his arms and only his strong grip keeps you standing. His lips devore you, taste your skin on your cheek, your jaw, behind your ear. He trails down to your neck and your collarbone. It’s almost too much, but too little at the same time.

You push him off you. He looks at you, bewildered, until you shove him against the wall and take your turn at exploring his body. He groans when you lick a path from the hollow of his throat to his ear and then attack his earlobe with hungry teeth. You blow hot air against the shell. He gasps. He has one hand tangled in your hair while the other squeeze your shoulder with bone-crushing strength.  _ Riley…  _ The way your name escapes his lips is so arousing that you moan against his neck.

Twice now he has used your first name. It’s so rare an occuring that it must mean something. Is he less guarded in the throes of passion? Well, who wouldn’t… It’s like he’s letting you in, welcoming you in his inner sanctum - the temple of his arms.

But you want more. Way more. You drop on your knees and lick him through his boxers while your hands wrap around his muscular thighs.

“Ah!” He’s lost his hold on your shoulder and both his hands are now grasping at your hair. You look at him from under your lashes - his clenching abs, his half open mouth, his heavy-lidded eyes… that stare back at you with such wonder it’s almost sad.

It's amazing that such a wonderful man could think he's anything less. That he finds unbelievable that you chose him over Liam. Over a prince, over a life of neverending parties and social events, a life of money and glory. When all you ever wanted was love, and you found a bottomless well of it in the heart of a lowly commoner with smoldering eyes and the body of a god.

You tug on his underwear but he stops you. “Riley, I’d rather…” He trails off but helps you up. Maybe you broke some invisible barrier. Maybe you were too forward, too bossy. Maybe you lost your only chance to finally…

He takes you up in his arms bridal style and walks to the bed where he lays you down gently. He smiles again, and all your fears disappear. Maybe, for once, you’ll let him take charge. And maybe you’ll enjoy that.

He slips off his boxers and you can’t help but gasp when you see him naked. He’s average - not that you have a ton of experience - but he’s definitely aroused. A bead of precum runs down his shaft as you look at it.

Drake doesn’t seem to notice your eyes on him, as taken as he is by the sight of you on the bed, hair splayed on the pillows, open and willing. He comes to you on his knees until he’s over you, hands and legs on each side of you. He lowers his face and kisses you once again. You’ll never get tired of his kisses - they’re full of passion and unrepressed desire, with a little bit of teeth and just enough spit. They aren’t precise and restrained like Liam’s… You catch yourself before your mind wanders onto unallowed territories. It’s extremely inappropriate to think of another man when you’re in your lover’s arms.

Not that your mind could have wandered much longer: Drake’s kisses have reached your breast and he’s biting your nipple through your bra, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. And you can think of nothing else.

“Smith, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers before licking your other nipple.

Back to last name. He must be in control, and you don’t like that. You want to make him lose his senses. You bend your knees and spread them, then you wrap an ankle around his hip. “Drake, please…” You end your plea with a moan. And you see the changes in Drake’s composure. A subtle shift of his smile, a minute twitch of his jaw, the fire that burn anew in his eyes.

“You’re killing me, Riley,” he says, before tuging on your bra until he frees your breast. He lavishes them with open mouth kisses and little licks until your nipples are pebbles under his hot breath. Then he sucks one in his mouth while he pinches the other. You arch your back beneath him, seeking more contact. He chuckles. “You like that?”

“More,” you ask. And he delivers. He runs his hand along your side, fingertips barely brushing against your feverish skin. At your hip, he follows the hem of your thong. The whisper of a touch sends shivers through your body. When he reaches below your navel, his hand wanders lower and you can barely breathe.

All those months of frustration are coming to an end. He’s going to touch you where you crave him most and the anticipation is killing you. Time seems to slow. You stare into Drake’s eyes, unable to tear away from them. There are questions and answers, surprise and certainty, pleasure and fear, in those brown eyes. A reflection of what must pass through yours. Is it real? Will all your hard work finally pay off? How long until he realizes you aren’t worth it? Is he the one for you?

Are you for him?

He reaches your crotch and everything disappear. No more palace, no more coronation, no more suitors and their awful schemes. Just you and him. He presses his palm to you while with deft fingers he pushes your thong aside to touch you. To plunge into your juices. You’re so ready for him.

Your state of extreme arousal seems to satisfy him. With a smirk, he starts circling your entrance, spreading your juices with a liquid noise that excites you even more. If he keeps going, you’ll overflow.

“Drake, please…” you say again. The dam breaks: he’s no longer in control. He tears off your thong, shifts between your legs, and with a single, long stroke, he enters you.

His eyes have never left yours. He stares right into your soul. He must see that you feel like your world just started, that your stars are aligned and that everything is perfect in the universe. You’re finally joined with the man of your dreams, and it’s better than you ever imagined.

Eyes still locked with yours, he pulls back slowly… and rams back inside you with a powerful thrust. You gasp and let a keening noise escape past your lips. Okay, that was even better. Drake keeps going like that for a few minutes before he starts pounding earnestly into you. He mutters a “fuck” and lowers his face to pepper kisses on your half-parted lips. You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of Drake inside you.

You open them when you no longer feel the warmth of his skin against yours. He pulls your hips up until your back doesn’t touch the mattress anymore. But you’re still connected where it counts. He’s now sitting on his heels, hands on your hips, fingers digging in your flesh. He spreads his knees a bit more to gain more leverage, and the next moment, he brings you to him harshly, burying himself deeper into you.

You groan. You feel exposed, open. Drake looks at you with blazing eyes as he thrusts inside you again and again. Each time, you get closer to the edge. You never knew so much pleasure existed. You throw your hands behind your head and bunch the bedspread in clenched fists. You wrap your legs around his back, trying to get more friction. You’re almost there. Almost. Almost…

Drake slows down to a snail’s pace. You could cry of frustration. You want to tell Drake how awful he is… until you see his face. Eyes tightly closed, he doesn’t look at you anymore. There’s a frown on his brow and his jaw clenches and unclenches. Beads of sweat run down his forehead, his torso, his abs. He’s trying not to come… As overwhelming as your coupling was, you never stopped and considered how it was for him. You relax and let your pleasure build again.

Then Drake angles his hips a bit differently and rams right into your sweet spot. You gasp and open your mouth in a silent scream as you throw your head back. You dig your heels in Drake’s lower back and your body spasms with extasy. It takes several seconds before you can breathe again. You barely register Drake burying himself one more time deep inside you as he comes with a loud groan. He drops on the bed beside you, both facing the ceiling.

“That was…”

“Yeah…”

When you’ve calmed a bit, you turn to him and drap an arm across his torso. You look at his profile. The strength of his jaw. His slightly crooked nose. The long lashes. His half-parted lips. He’s gorgeous. And he’s yours. You kiss his shoulder tenderly. There are too many feelings swelling in your chest at this moment, and you need to let some out.

“Drake I -”

He seals your mouth with his lips, as if he were afraid of what you might say. Oh sweet moron… You smile at him when he pulls back. “We better get dressed and go back to the party.”

You only wanted to tell him how much you love him. Oh well, you can tell him later.

“There’s a Homecoming Ball to attend.”

There’s always later. Right?


End file.
